


Made To Be Broken

by bastardscarnival



Series: The Cursed And The Divine [1]
Category: American Gods (TV), American Gods - Neil Gaiman
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Biting, Disability, Disabled Character, Drinking, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Sharing Body Heat, Sharing a Bed, Size Difference, Underage Drinking, Voyeurism, bed sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 12:02:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17724818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bastardscarnival/pseuds/bastardscarnival
Summary: Mr. Wednesday has things to do, but he needs Shadow and Sweeney to behave. So he drops them off at Ibis and Jacquel's Funeral Parlor where they meet yet another one of his cast-off-cohorts.





	1. Chapter 1

“You’ll be staying here for the time being.” Wednesday was already half out the door. “Play nice, will you? And show your hosts some respect.” And he was gone.

Sweeney and Shadow eyed each other warily before directing their attention to the men in front of them. The taller one was staring at the door Wednesday had disappeared through, while the shorter one was examining them closely. A tense silence filled the room.

“I heard a door!” A bright voice called from somewhere in the house. “Jacquel didn’t predict this one! What happened?” The sound of footsteps heralded the appearance of an as yet unseen person. The first thing Shadow noticed was their hair. It was long and wild, falling past their shoulders in thick, frizzy curls, sticking up and out and every which way. It was almost the exact same reddish orange as Mad Sweeney's’; perhaps a few shades lighter. It framed their youthful face, drawing attention to their pale skin with a slight flush highlighting their cheeks and nose. They couldn’t have been more than… 15? 16? Their features were androgynous to the point it muddled any assessment of their age. They drew up short once they caught sight of Shadow and Sweeney, eyes darting between the two of them before sliding over to Mr. Jacquel and Mr. Ibis, their gaze brimming with questions.

“Ash.” Mr. Ibis held out his hand, inviting them closer. They moved to his side, taking the hand and leaning into him like a child would lean into their parents when faced with strangers. Their free hand wrapped around Mr. Ibis’s arm, an action which caused Shadow to realize how small they were.

Mr. Ibis and Mr. Jacquel were around the same height. Shadow might have been a bit taller than them, but not by much. And Sweeney, the ever-ironic-leprechaun, had a few inches on him. But the newcomer, Ash, was nearly a foot shorter than all of them. Or maybe they just looked that way because of how they were standing. Still, they couldn’t have been much taller than Laura….

“This is Shadow Moon, and, ah… Mr. Sweeney.” Mr. Ibis gestured to each of them in turn. “They work for the Allfather and they’re going to be staying with us for a while.” Ash nodded, dropping Mr. Ibis’s hand to stretch their own out towards Shadow.

“Nice to meet you.” They smiled. Shadow took their hand and shook it.

“Same to you.” He replied. They dropped his hand and turned to Sweeney, but instead of offering their hand once more, they bowed deeply.

“Welcome.” They rose, looking up at Sweeney brightly.

“That’s a new one.” Sweeney muttered, looking slightly perturbed.

“How should I address you?” They asked, smiling.

“The fuck is he on about?” Sweeney asked, directing his question to Mr. Jacquel. Ash’s face fell slightly, and they glanced over their shoulder at the two men, as if seeking reassurance.

“Ash has a very… clear gaze.” Mr. Jacquel said slowly, stepping forward to rest a comforting hand on Ash’s shoulder. “He can tell things about you, just from looking.”

“And a sharp mind.” Mr. Ibis added. “He knows more about us, and those like us, than most humans could ever hope to.”

“He’s human?” Shadow asked, raising his eyebrows.

“That doesn’t explain why he fucking bowed. Or what he asked.” Sweeney frowned.

“I could see that you’re a fae, I didn’t want to…” Ash hesitated. “I’ve met fae before. They didn’t like shaking hands. And I didn’t want to say the wrong name. I know how the fae are with that stuff. No offense intended.” He said hurriedly, face turning red.

“Sweeney is different than the others.” Mr. Jacquel said quietly, leaning down to speak to Ash directly. “The rules don’t apply.”

“Any of them?” Ash looked surprised, glancing at Mr. Jacquel before looking back to Sweeney expectantly.

“Rules? Like the bullshit about lying and giving names?” Sweeney snorted. “No, none of that applies. You can call me whatever the fuck you want, nothing you say can be worse than what I’ve been called before.”

“Ok.” Ash said slowly, face tinting even more red. They stared at the ground, shoving their hands into the pockets of the baggy harem pants they wore.

“Would you like to show our guests to their rooms?” Mr. Ibis suggested after an awkward pause. “There’s two left, so you’ll have to decide who goes where, though there’s not much difference between them.” He told Shadow and Sweeney.

“Follow me.” Mr. Jacquel dropped his hand from Ash’s shoulder as they turned and headed down the hall to a staircase, leading the two men upstairs. “I’m in the furthest room.” They pointed to the end of the hall. “There’s a room next door, and a room across the hall. They’re basically the same, but the room next to mine has a connecting door. Well, technically two, and both lock from the inside, so you don’t have to worry about me coming in unexpectedly.” They grinned, eyes flicking up nervously. Sweeney stuck his head into both rooms.

“This one’s mine.” He jerked his thumb to the room next to Ash’s.

Shadow arched an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Bigger.” Sweeney grunted, going inside without looking back. “Let me know when there’s food.” He shut the door behind him. Ash stared after him for a long moment before turning to Shadow.

“It’s not really.” They confided lowly with a shrug.

“Whatever keeps him happy.” Shadow chuckled. Ash grinned briefly before a worried expression settled back over their features. “He’s usually like that, you know.” He said, assuming that they were still worried about what they’d said before. “Cranky.”

“I… didn’t mean to upset him.” Ash mumbled.

“He’ll get over it.” Shadow assured them.

“He’s fae. They hold grudges.” They frowned.

“You keep saying that.” He tilted his head to the side. “He told me he was a leprechaun. I didn’t even believe that at first but… well, now I know better. But what do you mean by ‘fae’?”

“It’s like… a label. Like ‘gods’. It means fairies, pixies, phookas, gremlins, trolls… a bunch of things.” Ash’s brow furrowed. “If he’s calling himself a leprechaun… that’s strange.”

“He mentioned rules. Lying? And names?”

“Fae can’t lie. And you’re not supposed to give them your full names or they can use them against you.” They pursed their lips. “But that only applies to… well, certain fae. He said it didn’t, so… well I made the wrong assumption.” Ash sighed and forced a smile. “Anyways. Do you need anything? Clothes, I assume. Mr. Jacquel will get some, but for tonight there’s pajamas in the top drawer. Are you hungry? I’m making dinner soon, it’ll be ready in a few hours. Hope you like dumplings.”

“I… thanks, but I’m fine for now. Dumplings sound great.” Shadow grinned, then paused. “If you don’t mind me asking… are you….”

“Human? Yeah, like Mr. Jacquel said. Though they both think I’m some kind of mongrel.” Their forced smile turned genuine, widening in unabashed glee. “Mixed blood. They don’t know with what, though.”

“I… alright.” He cleared his throat. “I was actually going to ask if, uh… you were a boy?”

“Oh!” Ash blinked, then laughed. “Yeah. That. I am. Well, kinda.” He shrugged. “I’m definitely not a girl.”

“I didn’t mean to be rude, I just didn’t want to call you the wrong thing.” Shadow explained.

“No worries. I get that a lot.” He waved him off. “I should’ve guessed, but I’ve gotten used to being around Mr. Jacquel and Mr. Ibis so much that my first thought was my species and not my gender.” He laughed again, and Shadow found himself relaxing.

“How did you end up here anyways? As a human and all.”

“Same way you ended up here.” Ash shrugged. “Wednesday.” Seeing Shadow’s confusion, he went on. “I worked for him a while, then… well he needed someone else, so he passed me off to Mr. Jacquel and Mr. Ibis and I’ve been living here since.”

“How long has that been?”

“I worked for Mr. Wednesday for about… eight months? Around last March to this October. And then I came here. So three months, just about. How long have you been working for him?”

“Three months.” Shadow frowned.

“Makes sense. He needs a… I dunno. A right hand man, I guess.”

“He told me he needed someone to protect him.”

Ash nodded. “That’s why he… well, fired me, I guess. I was good for a lot of things, but being a bodyguard wasn’t one of them.”

“What did he have you do?”

“Drive him places, run errands, listen to his ramblings, run cons, same stuff you do.” He shrugged.

“You ran cons?”

“Yeah. I’m guessing different ones than he has you help with, but yeah.” Ash grinned.

“What sorts of cons?” Shadow couldn’t imagine the innocent looking, shy little boy in front of him helping Wednesday rob a bank.

“Mostly catfishing.” He looked embarrassed. “Well, that’s not quite what it was. We didn’t lie about….” He paused. “You ever seen ‘To Catch A Predator’?” Shadow’s eyes shot upwards.

“You catfished _pedophiles_?” He asked, completely aghast.

“Yeah. Kinda. Wednesday would use pictures of me on profiles to talk to people, pedophiles, mostly men, and convince them I was some kid who wanted to run away, or had already ran away or was going through some rebellious phase with their parents, and they’d arrange to meet me somewhere, sometimes a hotel, sometimes their house, which Wednesday preferred, and then we’d rob ‘em.”

“Jesus fuck.” Shadow rubbed his face. “That’s… incredibly dangerous… how old are you?”

“20.” Ash replied instantly. Shadow gave them a skeptical look. “I turned 20 this October. I know, I look younger, that was the point. Just like they use 18 year olds to lure men in on ‘Dateline’, Wednesday used me to rob men in real life.”

“Ash?” Mr. Ibis’s voice rang out from downstairs. “Come here a minute, would you?”

“I’ll let you get settled in.” Ash smiled and turned, rushing downstairs and out of sight.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys settle in and more about Ash is revealed.

Dinner was good, though mostly quiet, with Ash filling the silence by recounting stories that Mr. Ibis had told before. Several times he tried to get the man to tell them himself, but Mr. Ibis refused, claiming that he enjoyed listening more than talking, and that Ash told them better anyways. Shadow noticed that Ash kept glancing in Sweeney’s direction, and that Sweeney kept glancing in Ash’s, but neither one of them ever caught the other looking. 

“That was delicious, thank you.” Shadow said, once finished. Ash beamed at him and stood, but Mr. Jacquel gave him a sharp look and he sat back down.

“The chef never cleans.” Mr. Jacquel informed the table.

“It’s a house rule.” Mr. Ibis began clearing the plates. Shadow made to stand and help, but he was waved off. “ _ You’re _ a guest tonight. We’ll put you to work tomorrow, so enjoy it while you can.”

“You got anything to drink in this house?” Sweeney interrupted. “A real drink.”

“We do.” Ash stood once more. “I know where everything is. I can make it for you. Southern Comfort and Coke, right?” 

“How the fuck do you know that?” Sweeney stared at him.

“I know things.” Ash tapped his temple. “Sharp eyes, remember?”

“Sharp eyes my ass, no one’s ever been able to tell what I drink by looking at me.”

“I thought no one could pull coins from thin air before I met you.” Shadow countered. Sweeney considered this, opened his mouth to argue, thought more, and shut it firmly.

“Do you want anything?” Ash asked Shadow. 

“No thanks. I think I’ll head to bed. It’s been a long day.”

“Sleep well.” He replied brightly, and moved into the kitchen were Mr. Ibis and Mr. Jacquel were continuing to clean up.

Shadow found the pajamas where Ash had said they were, and fell into bed. He did, indeed, sleep well. 

The next day, as promised, he was put to work. Sweeney too, though they were mostly split up in their tasks. Mr. Ibis sent Shadow on errands, while Sweeney stayed behind with Mr. Jacquel and worked around the parlor. 

This became the routine, interspaced with the occasional funeral. Shadow began to settle in and grow comfortable, at least, as much as he could be comfortable while knowing the world was on the brink of war. 

He noticed that both Mr. Jaquel and Mr. Ibis were exceedingly tactile with Ash. Ash, for his part, returned the affection, and it wasn’t rare for Shadow to enter Mr. Ibis’s study to find him reading a book aloud with Ash’s head in his lap as he stroked his hair, or spot Mr. Jacquel in the kitchen while Ash cooked, his arms twined around the boy’s waist. One day, he found himself in the living room with Ash, who was watching reruns of “The West Wing” on TV. They were alone, a rare occurrence given how close the two hosts were to the young boy. During a commercial break, Shadow turned to him, deciding to ask the question that had been growing within him since he arrived. 

“Your… relationship with Mr. Jacquel and Mr. Ibis.” He began. “What exactly  _ is _ it?”

Ash hesitated, pressing his lips together tightly.

“You don’t have to answer.” Shadow continued. “I just… noticed you’re pretty close with them, and they  _ are _ gods….”

“I know.” Ash shook his head, an auburn curl falling into his face only to be brushed away as he fidgeted. “I don’t know what to call it. Or what they’d call it.”

“Is it romantic?” Shadow asked, then, because he’d come this far. “Sexual?”

Ash’s face turned red, something Shadow had noticed happened a lot. The boy was pale enough, and reactive enough, that his cheeks colored at the drop of a hat, whether it be from excitement or embarrassment or anger. 

“Y...es….” He answered slowly. “It’s… I mean….”

“They fuck.” Sweeney’s voice came from the doorway, causing Ash to jump slightly.

“How do you know?” Shadow asked incredulously.

“His room is next to mine, remember?” Sweeney rolled his eyes. “At first I just heard him coming and going in the night, figured he was a restless sleeper or something. Then one day I was woken from what was supposed to be a pleasant nap by the sound of mattress springs creaking.”

Ash’s face was positively aflame. 

“I… we… thought you were… not there….” He mumbled, putting his face in his hands. “God….”

“Oh yes, I heard that said quite a few times as well.” Sweeney grinned, viciously delighted by the boy’s embarrassment. “And some other extremely interesting phrases as well.”

“Sweeney, don’t be a dick.” Shadow frowned. Sweeney glanced at Ash, who was continuing to hide his face, opened his mouth, and then turned and left. Ash peeked out from his fingers, then dropped his hands when he saw that Sweeney was gone. If Shadow hadn’t known better, he would’ve assumed the look in Ash’s eyes as he stared at the now-empty doorway was...  _ longing _ . 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the jackal's away, the mice will play.

A few weeks after they’d first arrived, Mr. Ibis announced that him and Mr. Jacquel would be leaving for a while on an ‘errand’.

“The parlor will be closed, so there’s no need to worry.” Mr. Ibis informed them.

“I’ve alerted everyone who need be.” Mr. Jacquel added. “Bodies will be directed elsewhere until our return.”

They all gathered in the foyer to see them off. To Shadow’s surprise, Ash leaned up and pressed a deep kiss to Mr. Jacquel’s lips. Jacquel himself seemed equally as surprised, and more than a bit amused at this sudden show of public affection.

“Do I get one as well?” Mr. Ibis asked playfully. Ash cheerfully complied, kissing him just as deeply and enthusiastically. Sweeney left in the middle of it, muttering something about being sick of playing voyeur.

“Take care.” Mr. Jacquel rumbled softly, eyes flicking up from Ash to briefly meet Shadow’s. “All of you.”

Things were quiet without them, without the usual routine of preparations to keep them busy and keep the parlor feeling full. Sweeney drifted around the place in a foul mood, the source of it known only to him. He seemed ready to snap at any moment, and on the third day, he finally did.

“For fucks sake, would you cut that shit out?” Sweeney growled under his breath. They’d been sitting in the living room, some sports game or another on TV. Ash had been reading a book, pausing to stretch, causing his shoulders to pop, something that Shadow _had_ noticed happened a lot.

“What was that?” Ash asked, no thread of tension in his voice.

“I said stop cracking your fucking joints.” He repeated, over enunciating each word. “Every other minute you’re pulling on your arms or fingers or fucking toes. It’s irritating.” Shadow looked at him in surprise. Ash _did_ crack his joints quite often, but Shadow hadn’t considered it to be annoying, just a quirk. The boy was the fidgety type, Shadow figured it was a way to expel excess energy.

“Actually.” Ash replied conversationally, meeting Sweeney’s glare with an entirely neutral expression. “I can’t. I have a condition known as hypermobility that causes my joints to partially or fully dislocate on a regular basis. When I ‘crack’ them it’s because they’ve come out, and I need to fix them.”   
Sweeney blinked in surprise, glare melting away entirely.

“You’re fucking with me.”

“Nope. You can look it up if you want.” Ash said in the same, calm tone as before. “I know the noise get repetitive but it hurts to leave them out. It hurts to put them back in too, mind you, so I’d like to crack them less as much as you would. Probably more.”

“Well. I didn’t know.” Sweeney picked up his drink and drained it, avoiding the look Shadow was giving him. “You could’ve said something earlier."

Ash pressed his lips together and stood without comment. Picking up his book, he walked off, an awkward silence descending in his absence.

 

  
“Jesus.” Sweeney muttered to himself, eyes fixed on his phone, a deep crease between them.

“What.” Shadow glanced over from where he was sitting with a book of Greek myths he’d found in Mr. Ibis’s study after being encouraged by the man to peruse his selection as he wished.

“Do you know what chronic fatigue is?”

“Feeling tired all the time?” Shadow guessed.

“Constantly!” Sweeney shook his head. “And it comes hand in fuckin hand with chronic pain most of the bloody time. One causes the other or… something like that.

“What are you reading?” He arched an eyebrow curiously.

“Some fuckin website of ‘conditions’.” Sweeney muttered. “Lotta shit on here I’d rather pull my own teeth out than deal with.”

“Is this related to Ash?” Shadow asked, already suspecting he knew the answer.

Sweeney glared at him briefly “And what if it is?”

He shrugged in reply. “Just curious.” Then, because he was genuinely curious, “What else did you find?”

The question earned him another look from Sweeney, this one more suspicious than annoyed, but when the Irishman detected no insincerity, he answered.

“There’s the bones popping out of joint thing, and chronic pain and fatigue, which means he’s always in pain. Always. And tired about it too. Sleep or no sleep. Joints will swell or lock up. In bad cases people can’t walk. The pain gets worse with cold and when storms roll through. Shit like walking makes it worse. Most things make it worse. Movement.” He shook his head. “Damned if I can imagine it.” He scrolled down, silent for a moment. Shadow figured he was done, but just as he turned back to his book, Sweeney spoke again. “There’s weird stuff too. Not bad, I suppose, but weird. Stretchier skin. Which varies from person to person. Here, look.” He held up his phone to Shadow, who saw a photo of a woman whose skin was hanging off her body like someone had draped fabric over her.

“That doesn’t seem like one Ash has.” He wrinkled his nose.

“He does, they all do, it’s just not that bad.” Sweeney shook his head and pulled his phone back. “ _And_ he bruises more easily, but heals faster too.”

“Weird.” Shadow agreed, finding it laughable that a leprechaun was flummoxed by a medical condition.

“Blood pressure’s fucked as well.” Sweeney went on. “If you take a hot shower or something you might pass out.”  
“You’re kidding.” Shadow snorted. “Pass out? Really?”

“Swear by the Isles.” He shot back. “The veins open up and all the blood rushes to the feet.”

“Ash takes hot showers.”

“Then maybe he just gets dizzy.” He mumbled, squinting at his phone. “Some forms of it include heart conditions.”

“Mm.” Shadow turned back to his book, interest waning.

“No cure. Or treatment, really. Usually gets worse with age.”

He finally looked up with a sigh. “You know, Ash is probably the person to talk to about all this.”

Sweeney contemplated that.

“I doubt he’d want to, after…” He trailed off.

“Try asking nicely.” Shadow suggested. “Ash’s a good kid. He might surprise you.”

 

 

The next day, he found Sweeney putting up plastic sheeting on the windows, a hair dryer in one hand to make them stay in place.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“It’s too damn cold in here.” Sweeney snapped, a bit too defensively. “I’m fixing it.”

Shadow’s eyes landed on a pair of boxes by Sweeney’s feet. One was open and empty, the other appeared to still be sealed shut.

“What are those?”

“Space heaters.” He grunted. “If our hosts can’t be arsed to turn the heat up, I’m taking things into my own hands. Sick of freezing my ass off, especially at night.”

“Three of them?” Shadow noted. “Is your room that cold?”

“One’s for the living room, one’s for my room, one’s for Ash’s room.” Sweeney mumbled, shooting a half-glance over his shoulder, as if challenging Shadow to push the issue further.

“Well… that’s nice of you.” Shadow replied, then turned and left, hiding his knowing smirk from the leprechaun’s sharp eyes.

 

 

“Shit.” Ash patted his pockets with his free hand, the other occupied with stirring a pot of some type of curry. “Shadow, will you watch this? I left my phone in my room and I forgot how much coriander I need.”

“Why don’t I grab your phone for you? I don’t trust myself not to burn it.”

“Fine, it’s on the floor by the bed, just shut the door behind you.”

Shadow made his way into Ash’s room, opening the door and stepping inside, immediately noticing the difference in temperature. He grabbed the phone, unplugged it, and headed back to the kitchen, remembering to shut the door as he left.

“It’s downright toasty in there.” Shadow noted, handing Ash his phone. “Where did you buy the space heater? I want to get one.” He asked Sweeney, who had taken to loitering in the kitchen whenever Ash cooked them dinner. They’d silently developed the routine of eating together, mostly because Ash was the only decent cook amongst them. It made more sense to get the food hot and fresh than reheat whatever Ash left in the fridge, though that’s usually what they ended up doing for lunch, or even breakfast. Ash told them flat out that while he was more than happy to cook dinner, his energy capped out at one meal a day, so they were on their own for the other two.

Now that Shadow knew about the boy’s condition, the comment made more sense. At first, he had assumed it to be somewhat of a joke. Now, he wondered just how literal it was.

“I didn’t buy it.” Ash answered before the other could speak. “I think Mr. Jacquel and Mr. Ibis left it for me. Did they not get you one?”

“Sweeney bought them.” Shadow informed him.

Ash looked up at the red-haired man in surprise before looking over at Shadow. “He… actually? It just showed up in my room and I figured….” His gaze returned to the pot he was stirring, a frown creasing his face. “There’s one in the living room too.”

“And one in my room.” Sweeney muttered. “But I only got the three of them. I’m not made of money, you know.”

Ash looked upset.

“Why did you buy me one?” He asked accusingly, measuring out spices and dumping them in the pot. Shadow was taken aback by the strained tone in his voice. What could possibly be upsetting about the other’s rare gesture of kindness?

“It’s damn cold, I figured you of all people could use one.” Sweeney shrugged.

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?” Ash asked, voice going from strained to outright incredulous. “I’m not a damsel in distress.”

“That’s not why I fuckin did it.” Sweeney retorted.

“Then why?”

“Your fuckin joints don’t work and you’re asking me why?”

This brought Ash to a halt. He blinked rapidly, lips slightly parted in surprise.

“The cold makes them worse, right?” Sweeney barreled on. Ash nodded silently. “So you need it. End of discussion.” After a long, strained silence, he spoke up again. “I got them down at the hardware store. In town.”

“Good to know.” Shadow replied awkwardly. Ash served the meal in silence. “I’m gonna, uh. Eat in my room.” He picked up his bowl and left as quickly as he could without looking suspicious.

“Thank you.” Ash said quietly, after he’d taken a few bites. “I didn’t… think you knew. About the cold, and stuff.”

“You told me flatout.” Sweeney shrugged.

“I told you the basics. No Either you knew what hypermobility was before I told you, which I find highly unlikely, or you looked it up.” He finally looked up, locking eyes with Sweeney. “So... thanks for that.”

Sweeney shrugged again. “Saw a lot of nasty shit about your condition. Figured a bit of heat might help. Especially if your boyfriends are too cheap to splurge on a way to keep you warm at night.”

Ash rolled his eyes. “To be fair, they’re usually the ones keeping me warm themselves.”

Sweeney nearly choked on his food, coughing loudly before letting out a hoarse laugh.

“Not so shy anymore, then?”

“You already got a front row seat to the audiobook of my sex life, so… no.” Ash’s lips curled slightly. “Not anymore.”

They continued eating, the silence between them much less tense.

“Just so you know, when it comes to hypermobility it….” Ash paused. “It varies a lot, so… don’t think that I’m gonna keel over, ok? I’m not like. Fragile.”

“If you can put up with your bloody joints popping out I figure you’re a mite tougher than most.” Sweeney grinned, earning a laugh from Ash. This made him feel strangely proud of himself.

“Fair enough. I’m still grateful.”

They finished eating, parted ways, and went to bed.

Two days later, the electricity went out.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And they were ROOMMATES

Shadow had been reading in the living room when it happened. He glanced out the window, surprised by the sudden pop and descending darkness. It was snowing heavily, had been all day, but he hadn’t thought the storm bad enough to cause any outages.

“Shadow?” Ash’s voice called from his room. A thud and the sound of swearing came from Sweeney’s.

“Power’s out.” Shadow replied. “Hang on.”

He called the emergency number Mr. Ibis had given them. He picked up on the second ring.

“Hello? What’s happened?” He sounded nervous, something Shadow had never heard in his voice before. He explained the situation, and Mr. Ibis sighed. “Check the fuse box, see if it can be fixed. But my guess is it’s the storm. Nothing to be done other than bundling up and riding it out.”

Shadow checked the fuse box, finding it intact and working. A downed line it was. He reported back to the others. 

“We’ve got nothin to fuckin eat.” Sweeney grumbled. “Stove won’t work and the leftovers are gone.”

“It shouldn’t be  _ that _ long.” Ash shrugged. “It’s not gonna kill us.”

“Hopefully.” Sweeney muttered.

“I’m gonna make a trip to the store. See if they’re open so we can get supplies.” Shadow decided.

“I’ll come with you.” Ash said. “Nothing to do here but sit.”

Sweeney ended up tagging along as well. The store was about to close when they reached it, but they convinced the owner to let them in to buy a few things. Shadow hunted down candles, matches, flashlights, batteries, a camp stove, and propane. 

Ash returned from the back of the store with an arm full of groceries.    
“Don’t get anything that can spoil, our fridge isn’t working.” Shadow advised. 

“There’s a foot of snow out the door.” Ash rolled his eyes. “I think we can keep stuff cold.”

Sweeney appeared with various bottles of liquor.

“What?” He said, noticing Shadow and Ash’s looks. “It keeps you warm.”

“Actually, it only opens the blood vessels in your extremities. Which makes you feel warm, sure, but it can make your core temperature drop.” At Sweeney’s incredulous look, he elaborated. “Your body restricts blood vessels to protect it’s internal organs. Drinking to stay warm in dire situations will kill you faster.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Sweeney muttered, and bought the liquor anyways.

On the ride home, Ash spoke up from the back. 

“I’ve got some mead I can share if y’all want it.”

Sweeney turned around. “Where did you get mead?”

“Made it.” Ash said. “Well, I have been making it. But it’s pretty much done. And it’s gonna get cold and kill the yeast anyways so we might as well drink it now.” 

“You… made mead.” Shadow repeated slowly.

“Yeah. In a jug in my room. It won’t be fancy but it’s mead.” 

“You’re 20.” Shadow pointed out.

“And if I’d try to buy alcohol I would have been stopped.” Ash smiled. “But buying honey, yeast, and water? Completely legal.” 

“And making it?”

“A grey area. As soon as it becomes alcohol… I technically can’t own it, but it’s not like it’s my house.”

Sweeney snorted. “Little devil.”

They got home and unloaded their supplies. 

“I suggest we pick a room and seal it.” Ash said. “Bring in all our supplies and put blankets over the windows and shit. It’ll conserve heat.”

“Your room, then?” Shadow suggested. “It’s probably the warmest since it had the heater. And it’s linked to Sweeney’s so we can spread out a bit if we start getting stir crazy.”

“Good idea. I’m gonna put the perishable groceries outside and move everything else into my room. Y’all can grab blankets and whatever you want from your rooms and move into mine.”

Ash’s room was somewhere in between messy and clean. The bed frame had been disassembled and the queen sized mattress now sat on the floor. A huge pile of blankets took up most of the space, though a few stuffed animals could be seen amongst the tangle. In one corner was a lump of towels next to various stacks of books, on the floor was a laptop, plugged in to an outlet that was no longer working. Next to it was the space heater, now silent and non-functioning. A wardrobe and a dresser were pushed against one wall, various items strewn across them that Shadow didn’t bother examining too closely. 

Instead, he neatly placed the things he’d brought (supplies, all the blankets from his room, his pillow, his warmest clothes, a few books) in an empty space on the floor, and pulled on the knit ski hat he’d gotten to try and preserve heat. His head got cold easily, and as strange as it felt to be wearing a ski hat indoors, he wasn’t going to weather the storm without it. There was banging at the door to Sweeney’s room, so Shadow opened it. Sweeney entered, arms full, and unceremoniously dumped his things on Ash’s bed.

Ash followed soon after, spotting the mess of Sweeney’s things and rolled his eyes. He had the large plastic trash can from the kitchen, having put a new bag in it and filled it with the non perishable food items from the kitchen and a few other things.

He put a few glass bowls and jars and around the room, clearing space for them on the dresser and wardrobe before placing candles inside them and lighting each of them. “It’ll help us not knock them over or shit.” He explained.

That done, he hung blankets over the windows, first using thumbtacks, then sealing the edges with duct tape. He then closed the door to Sweeney’s room, and wedged a towel under it, repeating the process with the door to the hall.

“No leaving unless it’s an emergency, ok? We want to conserve heat.” Ash said firmly. He unpacked the food supplies and arranged them in a corner. Also in the bin had been disposable plates, cutlery, and cups, which he set by the food before placing the now empty trash bin by the door. 

Casting his eyes around the room, he thought for a moment before moving the space heater out of the way, as well as the laptop, then carefully removing the towel covered lump from the corner. Pulling the towels off revealed a plastic one gallon jug of a clear brown liquid that Shadow recognized as mead.

Ash grabbed three paper cups from the corner and pulled the balloon off the top of the mead-jug. He poured a generous amount for Sweeney before turning to Shadow. “Want some?” Shadow shrugged and nodded. Ash poured him a cup and filled his own before capping the jug and setting it aside.

“What should we toast to?” He asked, raising his cup in the air.

“To not freezing our balls off.” Sweeney suggested.

“Too late for me.” Ash grinned. “How about… to Hestia.”

“Hestia?” Shadow asked.

“Goddess of the hearth.” Ash explained. “Home. Fire. Warmth. That stuff.”

“Works for me.” Sweeney shrugged. Shadow raised his cup and dutifully repeated “to Hestia” before sipping it.

It was different than what he’d tried last time. Sweeter. Thicker. Sharper too. 

“The best mead I ever had was made by a woman with one ear in Ontario.” Sweeney said. “This is… not that. But it’s far from the worst I’ve had. And considering it’s been brewed by a child, I’d say it’s a rousing success.”

“I’m not a child.” Ash stuck out his tongue and laughed. “But thanks.” 

Shadow was considering asking the two if they wanted to pass the time with a card game when Sweeney spoke again.

“What did you mean by ‘too late for me’?” 

“Hm?” Ash looked up. “The balls joke? Well it’s not like I have any. So I can’t freeze them off.”

“You don’t have balls?” Sweeney looked horrified. Shadow felt his stomach sink. “You lose them in some type of accident?”

Ash looked deeply uncomfortable. “I’m… you know I’m trans, right?”

Sweeney stared at him blankly.

“I’m transgender.” Ash repeated, fidgeting with his cup. 

“You… were a girl?” Sweeney’s brow furrowed.

“He just said he’s a boy.” Shadow muttered lowly, unsure if he should interject, but wanting to help protect Ash, especially knowing how sensitive he’d been to Sweeney’s comments in the past. 

“Now, but trans-whatever means he used to be a girl, right?” Sweeney turned his attention back to Ash. “How long have you been a boy, then? And if you don’t have balls what do you have?” 

Ash closed his eyes for a moment, then took a long drink of mead. 

“Ok. First off, I am not now, nor was I ever a girl. The doctor said “it’s a girl” when I was born. He was wrong. Everyone who thought I was a girl was wrong. I  _ came out _ as trans when I was 13. I started  _ medically _ transitioning, which means I started hormone treatment aka testosterone, when I was 18. As for what I’ve “got”, the only surgery I’ve had is top surgery. Finally; every single question you asked was offensive in some way. I don’t give a shit because I know you and because I’m very open about… well everything. So yeah I have a vagina. If you asked another trans person that they might deck you. And because I know that might not be an issue for you, let me be clear; do not ask another trans person that.” 

Sweeney held up the hand that wasn’t holding his mead, looking chastised. “Noted. You learn something new every day.” He then fell silent, but continued to stare openly at Ash who sighed heavily.

“Whatever other questions you have to ask, just ask them.”

“Top surgery means what, exactly?” Sweeney asked.

“It means I don’t have breasts. It’s basically the opposite of a boob job. So my chest is flat.”

“And the other surgery… do you want…?”

“No, I don’t. I’m a twink and a bottom so I don’t really need a dick for much.”

“Twink?” Sweeney repeated. “Like the pastry?”

“That’s Twinkies” Shadow laughed. “Twinks are feminine gay men.” He filled in. Ash looked at him in surprise. “I  _ was _ in prison.” He said, earning a laugh.

“You’re gay?” Sweeney asked. “I mean I knew you liked men, but does it count if you’re trans? And why be trans if you like men? Wouldn’t it be easier to just….”

“Stay a woman? Not really. My sexuality and my gender identity are separate things, just like they are for everyone. Me being trans doesn’t mean I’m more or less of a man, so yes, it counts.”

Sweeney drained the rest of his mead and produced a bottle of liquor from his pocket, opening it and pouring some into his cup. “So the men you’re with… they’re gay? Ibis and Jacquel and… whoever else?”

Ash shrugged. “I haven’t asked Ibis and Jacquel what they are. But yeah, I’ve been with gay men. They could also be bi, or queer or pan or whatever.”

“Do straight men ever make a pass at you?”

“Rarely. Some men think I’m a trans woman and chase me cause they’re gross and fetishistic. They bail when they realize I’m not a chick with a dick.” 

“Well you had me fooled. On the dick front, at least.” Sweeney raised his glass in a toast. Ash glared.

“I didn’t fool you. You made an assumption about my genitalia and you were wrong. If I assumed Shadow’s dick was uncircumcised and found out it was circumcised he didn’t ‘fool’ me into thinking he had an uncut dick.”

Sweeney considered this. “Never thought about it like that. You’re certainly a… a… you know a lot about things.”

“Or you don’t know a lot about anything.” Ash retorted, drained his mead, and sat on the bed before pulling a blanket around himself. 

Sweeney didn’t reply, just sat down and made himself comfortable as he continued to drink. Shadow selected one of his books to read. Time passed. Ash seemed to be occupied with doodling in a notebook. Sweeney let out a loud snore, having apparently fallen asleep. The sound startled the other two who locked eyes and grinned, though Ash’s smile faded quickly.

“He doesn’t mean to be… like that.” Shadow said. “He’s just…”

“I know.” Ash looked at Sweeney with a mix of concern and regret. “I’m not upset because of what he said, I’m just…” He bit his lip. Maybe the mead was getting to him. “I’m sick of being trans. I’m worried he’s gonna… treat me differently now. Part of what I liked so much about Mr. Ibis and Mr. Jacquel was that they didn’t treat me any different. They knew from day one, though, so maybe… maybe they would’ve treated me differently had they not.” He looked down, lost in thought. “That’s the thing about being trans. You’re either worried about people knowing, or worried about them finding out.” He looked up at Shadow. “Did you? Know?”

“Yeah. Well, I suspected.” He admitted. “I had a buddy in prison whose boyfriend was trans. He talked about it a lot. I met him on a visiting day. You have the same kind of…” Shadow trailed off, making a vague gesture with his hands.

“Baby face? Voice? Wardrobe?” Ash smiled. “I know what you mean.”

“I saw your binder too. When you were folding laundry. Do you still wear them? You said you’d gotten top surgery….”

“I wear them as compression garments to help the healing process.” 

“Healing process? How long ago did you get it done?”

“December.” Ash smiled. “Jacquel did it, actually.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope. Cut me open right on the slab down there. Benefits of working for a god include them being able to perform such magical feats like surgery without anesthetic.” 

“That’s insane.” Shadow shook his head in wonder.

“Yeah. It’s funny, I started working for Wednesday to save up money for surgery, and it turns out I could’ve saved myself the trouble if I’d just come to Jacquel instead.”

“How did you meet him anyways?” Shadow inquired.

“I read his cards.” Ash’s face twisted into something like bitter amusement. “I was in New York attending college. In my free time I’d sit in this park with a sign that said “five dollar tarot readings”. He sat down and gave me the money and said I’d get more if I was accurate. When I laid the cards out he tsked and said that I was already lying; the cards weren’t officially ‘tarot cards’. I told him no one knows what oracle cards are, so I call them tarot to draw in customers. I was worried he was gonna bail but he still seemed interested, so I read his cards and he gave me another five and said I’d done a good job and just… asked me what gods I worshiped. It was kinda surprising, but I figured someone fortune telling in New York doesn’t come off as monotheistic. So I told him I worshiped the Norse ones, mainly. He pressed me for details.” He smirked in remembrance. “I told him I liked Loki the best, and that I thought Odin was a bit of a bastard, but then again, all the gods were, so it didn’t matter much. The guy with him cracked up.”

“Who was with him?” 

Ash shrugged. “Dunno. Another god, I guess. No one I was introduced to. Anyways he asked me if I wanted a job and I said it depends on what kind. It took me a while to trust him. Or believe him, really. But I did. Anyways I switched to online college classes and now I’m here.”

“You’re still in college?” Shadow asked. Ash nodded. “For what?”

“Psychology.” He grinned. “Which is surprisingly intertwined with magic.”

“I believe it.” Shadow returned his grin easily. “Why do you think Wednesday hired you?” 

“Dunno. I guess I read his cards well. Sharp eyes and all that.”

Shadow glanced at Sweeney who had rolled over and stopped snoring, though he appeared to still be asleep.

“He cares about you.” Shadow blurted.

Ash made a face. “He’s got a funny way of showing it. For every… weird gesture of kindness, there’s ten gestures of stupidity. Or outright cruelty.” 

Shadow nodded slowly. Sweeney wasn’t a balanced individual in any sense of the word.

“Do you think he’s gay?” Ash asked suddenly, avoiding eye contact even as he did. 

“I… don’t know. He’s talked about being with women. Never men.” He paused. “But the way he looks at you…” 

Ash ducked his head, eyes flicking from Sweeney to Shadow and then back to the floor. 

“What do you mean? How does he look at me?”

Shadow bit back a chuckle.

“He just. Looks. Stares, actually. Whenever you look he looks away. But when he knows you’re not watching him… he watches you. Closely.” 

“That could be for a lot of different reasons.” He muttered.

“Could be. But I doubt it is.”

Sweeney woke up with a snort and looked around, blinking and frowning.

“It’s fucking cold.” He grumbled. Ash threw a blanket at him. 

“Bundle up, then.” 

Sweeney made a face but wrapped the blanket around himself tightly. 

Shadow checked his watch with a frown. 

“I wonder how much longer the power will be out.” He wondered under his breath. Ash stood and peeled back the tape on the blanket so he could peek out the window. 

“Still snowing.” He reported, and patted the tape back into place. “I’ll make dinner.”

Supplies may have been limited, but Ash managed to make a halfway decent chili, even though the ingredients were all canned. The heat of the camp stove and the scent of the simmering food spread throughout the room, making it almost cozy. Sweeney drank more mead. And more whiskey. Shadow and Ash declined both. 

“No leftovers.” Shadow observed, after they’d all eaten their fill.

“Cold burns calories.” Ash informed them sagely. “Researchers in the Arctic have to like. Double their caloric intake to stay healthy.” He picked up the now empty pot. “I’m gonna wash this. Better to do it now than let it get all crusty.” He went into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. The sound of water running started a moment later, accompanied by the muffled clank of the pot against the ceramic sink.

“Did you know?” Sweeney asked, eyes fixed on the bathroom door.

“Know what?” Shadow was puzzled by the seemingly nonsensical question. 

“That he was transgender.” 

“I… suspected. Why?”

Sweeney shrugged. “I didn’t. Or, I thought I didn’t.” He paused to pour himself another drink. “Now I’m rethinking. And I’m rethinking that I did.”

“What makes you… rethink that?” Shadow asked, knowing he probably shouldn’t.

“This and that.” He waved his cup about in a careless motion. “He’s pretty for a boy. Too pretty, if you ask me.”

“Too pretty… to be a boy.” 

Sweeney tapped his nose with the hand not holding his drink. “Fair prettier than any boy I’ve seen. Fair prettier than most women, in truth.”

“Uh-huh.” Shadow said flatly. 

“The way he cooks, too. Damn good food. No men I’ve ever met can cook like him. Fair few women can, neither. Let’s see, what else….” He sipped his drink thoughtfully. “Eyelashes. Long for a boy. That’s just. More of the pretty.” He leaned back against the wall and adjusted his blanket. “Short.” He added, thinking hard. “Smaller than… than a lamb, really. Skinny thing, too. I could lift him with one arm. Like a doll.”

“Anything else?” Shadow prompted dryly, his tone incredulous enough that Sweeney actually picked up on it.

“You can’t tell me I’m wrong.” He surmised from the look on Shadow’s face.

“You’re… not wrong.” He agreed. “But I think you’re right for the wrong reasons.”

Sweeney blinked. “The fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

“I think you’re retroactively putting together ‘evidence’ instead of reflecting on the deeper reason you actually noticed all of those things.” 

Sweeney blinked again. Shadow sighed.

“You’ve got feelings for him.”

His mouth fell open, but before he could reply, the door opened to reveal a shivering Ash. 

“Fuck it’s cold.” He shut the door behind him. “Water still works but it’s fucking icy. I’m not washing any more pots.” He sat down on the bed and moved to wrap a blanket around himself.

“Your fingers.” Shadow grabbed Ash’s hands in his. They were pale white, and freezing cold. He noticed the tips were faintly blue. “Jesus, Ash. Was it that cold?”

“Raynaud Syndrome.” Ash shook his head. “Nothing to do with my hypermobility, just a fun little coincidence my body cooked up. It means my blood vessels close off quicker and easier than they do for most people. Makes my fingers and toes susceptible to cold. They’ll warm up soon.”

Shadow curled his hands around Ash’s, trying to lend his own warmth to the boy. He studied his face, unsure if Ash was lying about the severity of the situation.

“Your lips are blue too.” He frowned. Ash cringed and forced a smile.

“Yeah, that happens. Same reason. I’ll be fine, I promise.” 

A blanket wrapped around Ash’s shoulders. He looked up to see Sweeney standing over them. 

“Gloves?” Sweeney grunted.

“Won’t help. My hands aren’t producing enough heat, sealing them in gloves will just keep the cold in.” 

Sweeney held out his cup. “Drink, then. Get the blood going.”

Ash made a face but took the cup, one hand pulling away from Shadow’s grip only for long enough to take a swig before handing it back to Sweeney. “You should probably lay off of that. It’ll open my blood vessels in a good way, but yours are already plenty unconstricted.” Sweeney shrugged and set the cup down on the wardrobe, eyes remaining fixed on Ash’s hands.

Shadow took Ash’s hands back into his own, rubbing them to try and warm them up faster. He leaned down and blew on them, glancing up to check if Ash’s lips were still blue, only to notice that the boy’s expression looked tight.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, motions stilling.

“Nothing.” Ash shook his head. Then, seeing Shadow’s doubtful look; “You… might have dislocated a few of my fingers.”

Shadow jerked his hands back as if burned, looking simultaneously horrified and guilty. “That  _ easily _ ?” He asked. Ash shrugged. 

“They dislocate and sublux for no reason, movement and pressure just… helps them along.”

“Did I sublux your fingers or dislocate them?”

“Bit of both, I think.” Ash began methodically pulling on each of his fingers. Each gave a pop, some hollow and surprisingly loud, others muted, like a normal knuckle cracking. He then went back and folded his fingers over, pressing on the flat section of each with the palm of his opposite hand. Each of these gave a hollow crack. When he was done, he gave his fingers an experimental flex, tilted his wrists back and forth, which caused a few more cracks to be heard, and nodded. “All better.”

“You sound like fucking bubble wrap.” Sweeney muttered. 

Ash grinned. “I’ve gotten ‘pop rocks’, ‘pop _ corn _ ’, ‘unholy demons’... but bubble wrap is new.” 

“Are your hands warm, at least?” Shadow asked.

“Well, they hurt, so the blood flow is returning.” He pressed his fingers to his cheeks thoughtfully before nodding. “About as warm as they usually get.” He reached down to his sock covered feet and cracked a few of his toes in the same manner he’d cracked his fingers. 

“Which joints are the most painful to relocate?” Shadow asked. “And how often does each of them…” He gestured. “Do that?” 

“Fingers? A lot. Toes less so. Shoulders and neck crack a lot… ankles too. My hips are probably the rarest.”

“Your  _ hips _ dislocate?” Sweeney stopped mid-pour to ogle at Ash in disbelief. 

“Every joint dislocates.” He snorted. “Or it can. Ribs used to dislocate a lot cause I was an idiot when it came to binding. Not so much anymore, which is good, because dislocating a rib is probably the most painful. Hurts to breathe.” Ash thought. “Hips are maybe the second most painful. I think the rarer joints hurt more cause it takes more to pop ‘em out and back in so… it also hurts more.” 

“Have you ever  _ broken _ a bone?” Shadow asked.

“Nope.” He shook his head. “That’s actually a side effect of being stretchy. I just bend instead of breaking.” 

Shadow checked his watch. “It’s getting late.”

“Still no fucking power.” Sweeney grumbled. 

“Let’s roast marshmallows.” Ash suggested, a smile blooming on his face as he hopped up and crossed the room to the pile of food. He dug around and pulled out a bag of marshmallows, and a pack of wooden kebab skewers. Tossing the marshmallows to Shadow, he dug around more and retrieved a package of chocolate and a box of graham crackers.

“Are we supposed to roast the things on the candles?” 

“That’s what the camp stove is for.” Ash rolled his eyes, lighting the stove and setting up his skewer. 

They began roasting marshmallows, which sparked a debate on the best way to do so. Sweeney liked his marshmallows burnt on the outside, gooey on the inside, Shadow liked his melted but barely golden, and Ash liked his deep brown and crackley. They worked their way through nearly the entire bag until they were stuffed and sticky. Shadow checked his watch and realized it was getting pretty late. 

“How’re we going to sleep?” He asked. 

“Laying down with our eyes shut.” Sweeney suggested.

“I meant in what positions.” Shadow rolled his eyes. “There’s not room on the bed for three of us.” 

Sweeney frowned. “Ash should get to sleep on the mattress.”

“For once I agree with you.” Ash nodded. “If I sleep on the floor I dislocate things. But there’s room for one of you on the bed.”

“I’ll sleep on the floor.” Shadow offered. Sweeney gave him a look. 

“Don’t you think both humans should get the bed?” Ash argued.

“Oh so now you’re prejudiced against leprechauns?” Sweeney folded his arms, and Ash snorted. “I can sleep in my room.” He countered.

“It’ll be freezing in there. We should preserve body heat, at least.” Shadow cut them off. “And I like a firm mattress anyway, so the floor is no big deal.”

“Makes no difference to me.” Ash shrugged, almost too casually. “You’re both fucking huge so it’s not like I’ll get more space with one of you.”

“I’m taller.” Sweeney muttered. He was ignored. 

They distributed the blankets, with Shadow laying down the towels first before laying a blanket over them at Ash’s suggestion.

“The floor will make you colder unless you build up a layer of insolation.” He advised. He also insisted that Sweeney change into pajamas. “I don’t want street clothes getting my bed all nasty.” Sweeney grumbled but obeyed, making a brief foray into his room to retrieve the guest pajamas stored there that he’d never had a chance to use. 

“Well you’re right about one thing.” He shut the door quickly and replaced the towel. “It’s a hell of a lot colder out there.”

“The stove and the candles and our body heat are helping keep this room warm.” Ash nodded, changing in the corner away from the candles. “So you’re welcome. For talking sense into you.” He pulled his clothes off quickly, keeping his boxers on and replacing his jeans with leggings, then sweatpants, before donning a thermal shirt, and finally, pulling a sweatshirt over it. Shadow couldn’t help but look, catching sight of his chest where two long scars stretched from underneath his armpits, almost meeting in the middle.

“That from surgery?” Sweeney asked bluntly, not bothering to hide the fact that he’d watched Ash change.

“The scars? Yeah.” Ash subconsciously placed a hand on his chest for a moment. 

“Did it hurt?”

“I was unconscious.” He snorted. “Afterwards, yeah, but I had painkillers to help.”

“How long ago was it?”

“December 26th.”

Sweeney looked shocked. “It’s  _ February _ .”

“Yeah.”

“So you’re… still recovering.” 

“A bit.” Ash shrugged. “It’s mostly just scar care and shit at this point. Nothing hurts anymore.” He moved over to the wardrobe and picked up what Shadow saw to be a pill bottle. Dry swallowing a pill from it, he picked up another bottle and took three from that one.

“That for the pain?”

“I just said there wasn’t any.” He rolled his eyes. “It’s for insomnia. Even with meds I don’t sleep sometimes, but they help.” He got under the covers and gestured to Sweeney. “Get in and get comfortable so you don’t keep me up by tossing and turning.” 

Shadow lay down, flat on his back, and closed his eyes. The sound of shifting and murmured conversation filled his head briefly, before silence fell, and he drifted off.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is why the fic is rated E. Proceed accordingly.

 

Shadow woke up from a surprisingly dreamless sleep, confused as to what had woken him up in the first place. He lay there for a moment, eyes still closed, trying to figure out what it had been. A sound? He’d heard something. That was it. After a moment, he heard it again. A muffled whimper coming from the bed.

He cracked his eyes open, making out the two figures in the flickering light of the almost burnt out candles. Both of them were laying on their side, with Sweeney behind Ash, his hand covering the smaller boy’s mouth. Ash’s eyes were half rolled back, one of his hands gripping Sweeney’s wrist, the other out of sight beneath the covers. It looked like Sweeney was moving, slowly but consistently, jostling Ash who moved in reaction to every… thrust?

It took Shadow a moment to process what he was seeing, but Ash let out another choked whimper, and he finally put two and two together. 

“Hush now, little one.” Sweeney whispered. “Or you’ll wake him.” Ash took in a shuddering breath and squeezed his eyes shut. Shadow felt his face heat up, blood pooling downwards, making his pants tighten in response. He felt guilty for spying, but it wasn’t as if he could go anywhere, and he didn’t want to alert the others to his presence and make things worse. But his cock throbbed insistently, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight of Ash’s skin, pale and flickering in the candlelight. He hadn’t really had time to take care of himself since he’d been out of prison, the occasional quick wank in the shower notwithstanding. So even as he struggled with his role as voyeur, he slipped his hand into his pants and wrapped it around his cock, beginning to stroke himself slowly. He kept his eyes half open, grateful for the darkness which made sure his movements wouldn’t be noticeable by the others. Though it was unlikely they’d notice much of anything right now, as wrapped up in each other as they were.

Shadow could make out the fact that Sweeney’s free hand appeared to be between Ash’s legs, moving in time with his thrusts. As he watched, Sweeney dipped his head down and grazed his teeth over Ash’s neck, biting down and sucking a bruise to the surface. Ash’s hips bucked in response, his body tensing and his eyes flying open as another muffled noise escaped from behind the gag of Sweeney’s hand. 

“So wet for me.” Sweeney growled, despite his urging for Ash to stay silent. “So eager. If I’d known you’d be this delicious-” He punctuated his statement with a sharp thrust. “-I would’ve done this the first night I spent here.” Ash shuddered at the thought, pushing back against him, desperate for more. 

“Do you like that? Like the thought of me coming into your room, barely more than a stranger, waking up to me climbing into your bed, ripping off your clothes, fucking you properly?” He grinned and sucked another mark on to his neck. Ash was struggling to breathe quietly, sucking in as much air as he could without making noise. “We’ll have to do that, you know. You can leave the door unlocked now, knowing I’m right next door, knowing I could come in at any time, bend you over and take what I wanted.” Sweeney moved his hand from Ash’s mouth to his throat, wrapping his fingers lightly around it and continuing his steady thrusts. 

“Sweeney.” Ash whispered, pleadingly. 

“Mm.” Sweeney replied lowly. Shadow saw his arm shift, wringing a shudder and a choked back moan from Ash. “I like hearing you say my name… I’ll like hearing you scream it more.”

“God.” Ash breathed. “Fuck.” He turned his head, pressing his mouth into Sweeney’s arm, and biting down, prompting the Irishman to let out a sharp hiss.

“Cheeky little devil.” He panted.

“Nn…” Ash replied, letting go for long enough to say “I’m gonna come” before biting down once more.

“Again?” Sweeney licked his lips, grinning. “Responsive thing, aren’t you?” Shadow felt his cock jump at the insinuation that Ash had already been fucked through at least one orgasm, and relentlessly driven to another. Sweeney appeared to speed up, tilting Ash’s head back at an angle so their lips could meet. Ash shivered and locked up, coming hard and surging into the kiss as he grabbed at every part of Sweeney he could reach. 

“God, please, Sweeney.” Ash moaned brokenly. “I can’t fucking… take much more, please.”

Sweeney chuckled softly. “Sensitive?” He teased. Ash merely whimpered and clutched at him weakly. Sweeney apparently decided to take pity on him, burying his face in the crook of Ash’s neck, arm stilling as he focused on reaching his own orgasm. Shadow continued stroking himself, speeding up as well, so that he came not long after Sweeney’s thrusts had stilled. Shadow came silently, though Sweeney let out a quiet moan and a long breath as he came, the sound plainly audible, despite his attempt to muffle it with Ash’s neck. 

Once the aftershocks faded, Ash rolled over and curled into Sweeney’s chest, who responded by tugging the blankets up around the two of them. His hand came to rest on the back of Ash’s head, the lustful expression on his face fading into fondness as he gently cradled him and stroked his hair.

“Warm now?” He asked softly. Ash giggled.

“Perfectly.” Silence fell, and Shadow tried to dredge up some guilt for what he’d seen and done, but endorphins from his orgasm made it difficult to feel anything but satisfied.

“Should we… move apart so if Shadow wakes up before us he won’t see?” Ash asked quietly.

“You got a problem with him seeing us like this?” Sweeney replied, tone rough.

“No, but I figured you might.” Ash mumbled.

Sweeney pulled back, fingers curling into Ash’s hair and tugging it slightly to make him look up so their eyes met. They stayed like that for a long moment before Sweeney leaned in and kissed Ash deeply. 

“Don’t be stupid.” He pulled the boy close once more. “Sleep.”

“Yes, sir.” Ash said, and even though Shadow couldn’t see his face, he could hear the smile on it well enough.


End file.
